I, Porn Star (I #1) (33 page)

He hesitates for
a moment, but then steps out. We climb the small hill and enter the parlor
reception area. A woman in her fifties emerges from a back office and smiles at
us. Her chest tag reads
Manager
.

“How can I help
you folks?”

I exchange
glances with Quinn. He raises an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with the barest
hint of amusement. “Uh…this is a probably an odd request, but my uh…friend
here, used to stay here with his mom,” I look at Quinn, but he doesn’t seem
inclined to help. “We…he wants to see the room upstairs…where they used to stay?”

The woman looks
from me to Quinn and back again. “You mean you want to book it for the night?”

“Um, well, not
exactly—”

“Yes. Is it
available?” Quinn asks.

My eyes widen in
a
what-are-you-doing
query, but he ignores me.

The woman nods
with a slight frown. “It is, but the beds in there are two singles, not a
double. Are you sure you don’t want another—?”

“We’ll take it.”
Quinn pulls out his wallet and slides his black card and ID across the desk.

She picks up the
ID, sees his name and her eyes widen. “Quinn? You’re Adele Blackwood’s son?”

He nods tersely.

Her face softens.
“I was sad to read about her passing. She was a lovely woman.”

Stillness engulfs
him. “Thanks.”

She senses the
subject isn’t one to linger on, so she enters his details, and hands back his
cards. “If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll grab the keys and take you up.”

The moment she
disappears, I turn to Quinn. “This isn’t a good idea.”

His eyes hook
into me. “Why not? Do you have some place else to be?”

“No. But
—”

“It’s just for
one night, Elyse
.”

37

BLUR

I could come up
with a million excuses. But the truth is I want this precious time with Quinn.
So I say nothing. And I nod.

He exhales.

And we wait for
the manager to return with the keys.

He takes my hand
as we’re escorted upstairs.

The room is
charming, with flowery bedspreads and cute paintings of mountains I can’t
imagine the Quinn I know now, loving. But as I look around at the rocking chair
in the corner and the log fireplace, I realize it wasn’t the place that held
meaning for him, it was the person he was here with.

I turn from the
window and look at him.

He’s staring at
the bed on the right, his gaze shadowed again. The manager retreats silently,
and I go to stand next to him.

“Do you want to
take that bed?” I murmur softly.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll go
and wash up.”

He catches my arm
before I can leave. “It wasn’t you, Elyse. Earlier, when you tried to hug me.
It was me. I don’t like to be hugged. The last person to hug me was my mother.”

My heart staggers
with pain for him. “It’s okay. Really.”

He shakes his
head. “No, it’s not. She knew she was going to die. It was her way of saying
goodbye. I loved her, but I absolutely
hate
her for it.”

My insides
shudder hard. “Oh, Quinn—”

He turns abruptly
and shackles me his arms. “Give it to me, Elyse. The relief. Please. I need
it.”

The internal
conflict that churns lasts all of five seconds. I know somewhere along the
line, guilt and shame for not keeping my promise to Q will sting, but right in
this moment, I can think of nothing I want more than to give myself to Quinn.
So I don’t protest when he pulls me tighter into his hard, lean body.

Our kisses over
the last week have grown progressively frenzied, our mouths attempting to sate
what our bodies need. This time, the kiss is pure, heavenly foreplay, tinged with
the desperation and desolation raging through Quinn.

My hands slide up
his neck. He picks me up and walks me to the bed. He lets go for a minute, and
I lean back, stare at the god before me.

Without taking
his eyes off me, he sinks down and tugs my boots off, then his own. Feverish
eyes rake over me as he joins me on the bed, and takes my mouth again. We
tumble back against the pillows. His tongue flicks against mine and I moan. He
goes deeper, his caresses growing more intense with each passing second. Firm
hands slide under my sweater, fingers stroke my skin. I’m furnace-hot, melting
from the inside.

After an eternity
of kissing, his mouth leaves mine, trails to my jaw, my earlobe, my pulse. I go
on an exploration trip of my own. Quinn’s body is unbelievably honed. Tight
muscles jump beneath my touch as I pull his shirt free of his pants and glide
my hands up his back.

His weight on me
feels solid, even a touch familiar. I realize that before Q, I never
voluntarily explored a man’s body, so I wonder if all men who take care of
their bodies feel the same.

I look up at him.
He’s staring at me, his gaze probing in watchful, almost dreading silence. I
shut out my conflicting thoughts against comparing the two men I’ve interacted
with recently, and revel in the fact that I’m here, in this place and time,
with Quinn Blackwood.

I smile.

He exhales. His
hands trail up my midriff, then with impatient movements, he rears up and pulls
my thick sweater over my head. His jaw drops at the sight of my braless
breasts.

When he looks up,
there’s a dangerous light in his eyes. “You always go out without a bra,
Elyse?” he croaks.

I shake my head.
“We…you looked like you needed to leave in a hurry.”

One finger trails
from my collarbone to the top of one breast. My nipples pucker, the areola
breaking out in goose bumps.

He cups one mound
and groans. “So fucking soft. So responsive. Need to taste you.” His mouth
closes over one peak, pulls it hard into his mouth before swirling his tongue
around it.

Fireworks spark
off in my brain. When I clutch his head, Quinn raises his gaze, gauges my
pleasure with an avid intensity that makes me gasp. Without releasing me from
the stare, he flicks his tongue over me, then kisses his way to the other peak.

“Oh God!”

“Tell me how you
feel, Elyse,” comes his raw command. The coarse gravel of his voice is almost
incoherent.

“Good.
So, so good!
”

 
He lavishes attention on me for the
longest time, and with each appreciative gleam of his beautiful eyes, I become
wetter.

My nipples are
bruised rose by the time he kisses his way down my body. Even then his gaze
lingers on my breast. Quinn is clearly a breast man.

Like Q.

I frown.

Stop
it.

The warning takes
care of itself when Quinn opens the fastening of my jeans. His gaze captures
mine as he slowly pulls down the zipper. He licks a path from my navel to the
top of my panties, then rubs his stubble against my covered pussy.

“I can smell you,
baby. Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” I gasp.”

The hands that
rid me of my jeans are a little rough, a lot unsteady. He rises on his knees to
toss them away, then stares down at my body.

“Breathtaking. So
very beautiful.”

My panties follow
the same path as my jeans. Then I’m bare to Quinn. And his ravenous eyes. Where
his hands don’t touch, his eyes devour. And when he parts my thighs and delivers
both conduits of attention, I’m a fucking goner.

“Need to taste,”
he says again, before capturing each thigh in his big hands and spreading me
wide open. His thumbs part my lips and he licks me from hole to clit.

My hips want to
surge off the bed. He pins me down, repeats the action, but this time lingers
on my clit. More fireworks explode. Liquid heat pours out of me.

“Fuck!” He laps
me up with almost embarrassing enthusiasm.

That
single-minded concentration and the borderline feral sounds from his throat are
such a damn turn on, I know I’m going to go off in a second. I clutch my
breasts and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Quinn…I’m
coming.”

“Look at me when
you come, Elyse. I want you to see me,” he rasps.

My head feels
almost too heavy to lift, but I struggle onto one elbow, and spear my fingers
into his hair. “Yes. Whatever you need, Quinn.”

His eyes darken
and his eyelids flutter before he regains his purpose. He sucks my clit with a
hard, merciless pull, and sends me over the edge.

“Oh, yes! Oh
God…” My nails dig into his scalp and my gaze fuses with his as my release
smashes through me.

The connection
between us is soul-searing. He lets me see his pain, his fury, the desolation
that has eaten away at him. I also see entreaty and regret.

As I come down
from the most incredible high, I cup his face in my hand. “Quinn,” I murmur,
dying to give him more. Dying to give him everything.

He rears up and
rips his shirt over his head. “I need to be inside you, Elly. Need you.”

His motions are
truncated, his eyes desperately clinging to mine as he removes his pants and
briefs.

“You have me.”

His nod is almost
sorrowful. My heart bleeds as I take him in my arms. Our kiss holds a mixture
of desperation, lust and my flavors as he settles between my thighs. I feel the
head of his cock at my core and a persistent thought intrudes. I attempt to
break the kiss. He’s set on denying the disconnection.

“Quinn?” I
mumble.

“Hmm?”

“Uh, do you…have
a condom?”

He freezes. Eyes
that have insisted on a connection breaks away from mine. He sucks in a huge
breath, then shakes his head. “No,” he says.

The idea of
stopping fills me with pain and dread. What I’m about to do may be right up
there on the epic stupidity scale, but the thought of being denied is
unbearable.

“I…can I trust you
with my health, Quinn?”

He nods
immediately. “I won’t force you if you don’t want you, but yes, you can.”

I suck in a
breath. “Okay. I’m clean, by the way. And I’m on birth control.”

“So am I.”

“You’re on birth
control?” I tease, desperate to allay any impending disappointment.

“I’m clean,” he
says. “I won’t lie about something like that. I promise.”

My heart lifts.
“I believe you.”

He smiles.

Quinn Blackwood
smiles for the very first time since we met. And the sight of it is so fucking
magnificent, my mouth drops open.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“That…your smile.
Wow.”

It grows wider.

And just like
that, my heart decides.

Once I give
myself permission to, falling in love with Quinn Blackwood is as easy and as
terrifying as falling off the edge of a cliff. The crash is inevitable but
goddamn, I intend to enjoy the exhilarating descent.

So I return his
smile. Slide my hands over his beautifully sculpted arms and lock my fingers at
his nape. “Now that we’ve got that cleared up, what are you waiting for?”

His smile slowly
fades away. I don’t mind, because it’s replaced by that feral hunger that
electrifies my soul. Braced on his elbows, he spears one hand into my hair and
the other at beneath my ass. He tilts my hips upward and thrusts, hard and deep
and gloriously into me.

Dear God. Either
the men I was unfortunate to sleep with before were all woefully underendowed
or I’ve lucked out and found two men with cocks designed to send a woman to
heaven!

My mind veers
once more to the similarities between the man who owns me and I want to belong
to.

Once again, I’m
not allowed to dwell on the thought.

Quinn slams into
me. I scream, then pray there are no occupants around us. Then scream again as
he fills me tight. His deep answering groans roll into one another.

Then the filthy words
start.

“Love. Seeing.
Those. Fucking. Tits. Bounce.”

“Pussy so good.
Fuck
, you hold me so tight, Elly.”

“Wanna feel you
come all over my cock. Will you be a good girl and do that for me?”

“That’s right,
baby. Scream for me. Want everyone to know how fucking good this is.”

I’m way past the
point of caring how raw and needy I sound as I scream some more, beg him to
keep fucking me.

His eyes never
leave mine as he pounds into me.

The connection is
so sizzling and intense, much too soon, pressure builds again. My pussy
clenches harder around him and he growls.

“
Yes!”

I take that as
permission and I fly.

Seconds later,
Quinn lets out a primitive roar and shoots thick, hot semen inside me. He
buries his face in my neck, his breathing hoarse and ragged as endless
convulsions roll through him.

My arms come
around him for a few seconds before I clock that I’m hugging him. I hold my
breath, but he doesn’t push me away. Instead, he rolls us over and hugs me
tight in return. We stay like that as we battle for air.

I kiss his skin.
Breathe him in.

Beneath his
fading sandalwood scent, his musk flares, wraps around me. Again it feels
familiar. Again I hate myself for blurring one man into the other.
 

I push the
thought aside and look up. He’s watching me. He leans down and presses his lips
to mine.

“Thank you,” he
rasps.

I fall harder. New
words of love trip over my tongue. I barely manage to hold them back. “Tell me
about your mom,” I say instead.

A wave of sadness
rushes over his face. “She was beautiful. And funny. She loved me. She was my
everything.” He doesn’t say more than that. The tight lid he keeps on his
emotions won’t let him.

I have a million
other questions, but I limit it to one. “You said she was saying goodbye…with
that hug? Did she…?”

“Take her own life?
No. That was Maxwell’s job.”

I gasp. “Your
father killed her?”

He drags his gaze
from mine, his face a frozen landscape once again. “She ended her life in the
technical sense, but Maxwell took her life long before she died.”

“Oh, Quinn.”

His arms tighten
painfully around me. After a few minutes, his gaze finds mine, digs feverishly
into me. “Things are going to get intense over the next week, Elyse. You won’t
like me very much when it’s all over. But I hope you’ll understand.”